


Awkward

by BiLaunchpad



Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991)
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Feelings Realization, Fenton is a better friend than Drake gives him credit for, Fluff, Gosalyn knows Drake better than he does, Launchpad isn't as dumb as Drake thinks, M/M, Yes this will be Cheesy, accidental date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:06:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25544851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiLaunchpad/pseuds/BiLaunchpad
Summary: When Drake decides to participate in Scrooge McDuck’s charity date auction, he assumes it'll be a one time small dinner with a random stranger.  But a mishap at the auction leads Drake down a path that's up for a lot more twists and turns than he hoped for.  Can he make it through the night without any complications?
Relationships: Drake Mallard & Gosalyn Mallard & Launchpad McQuack, Drake Mallard/Launchpad McQuack, Fenton Crackshell & Drake Mallard
Comments: 23
Kudos: 131





	1. In Which Our Story Begins

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by the concept Ninja_Librarian had in their Ducktales Universe fics. I thought I'd try my hand at the same concept, but this time in the Darkwing Duck Universe. If you're a fan of Drakepad, I highly recommend their stuff.

Drake sat on the couch, flicking through the channels on the TV screen. Nothing had caught his attention for more than ten minutes at a time. But that was less about there being nothing to watch and more about his lack of interest in anything happening on screen. He'd assumed that anything would be a good enough distraction until he was forced to leave. But his mind had wandered the entire two hours he'd been on the couch. Drake looked over at the clock, which showed it was 5:28 pm, and turned the TV off. He still couldn’t believe Fenton had managed to get him to come to that stupid charade…

*One Week Ago*

“What do you mean, ‘Super Hero Date Auction’,” Drake had asked that night on patrol when Fenton had told him. Fenton, still in the Gizmoduck Armor, turned around to face him. 

“You heard me. A week from now, Scrooge will be hosting a small auction to have a chance to date one of St. Canard’s many heroes. All the money is going to some sort of charity for ‘the good of humanity’.” Fenton shrugged, “Whatever that means.”

Drake picked up a loose piece of gravel from the rooftop and tossed it into the street. “Well count me out. The last thing I want to do is go on some date with a random girl who’ll be too judgy. Who the hell is going to want to pay money for this?” Drake gestured at himself. His face was a combination of dirt specks and ruffled feathers, the bags under his eyes looking like they reached halfway down his face. His chest and belly flab were now much more noticeable from eating all of the recent sweets Binkie had made for him, though he would never admit to her that he liked them, that was all on Gosalyn. Drake also feared that no one would like his hero persona after getting to talk to him for more than ten minutes. Hell, even he found it tiring to keep it up in front of civilians. “I am the last person someone’s gonna wanna go out with Fenton.”

“Oh relax!” Fenton slapped Drake’s back, nearly knocking him off the rooftop’s edge. “I’m sure you’ll find someone who’s into that sort of thing. Y'know, I’ve heard around that dad bods are trending as the new hottest type of body. And...." Fenton paused to find something else to say. "... And you’re only required to go on one date. After that, you can do whatever you like. No more obligations,” Fenton said, trying his best to sell Drake the idea. 

Drake sat silently, pondering the idea of having to go on a date. He'd been on a few late-night flings with whatever cute girl he found at the bar, and sometimes if he was lucky they would take an interest in him for a week or two. But those relationships were more touch and go. The last time he'd been on an actual date was when he'd been dating Morgana, which he realized was over a year ago now. Drake tensed up at the thought of her. He couldn't keep avoiding things because of the mistakes he'd made with her. But did that mean going out with some random stranger? Drake gripped the rooftop edge tightly and bit his tongue, “...Fine! I’ll do the stupid auction. Happy now?” 

*Present Day*

Drake snuck into his room and pulled an emergency Darkwing Duck costume out of drawer, stuffing it into a duffel bag. He hadn’t told Launchpad or Gosalyn about the auction yet and he didn’t plan on telling them ever. The last thing he wanted was the two of them spying on him and messing up the date more than he already would. That, and them knowing what he was up to would be a serious blow to his ego. Drake tossed the duffel bag on the couch, and walked up the stairs before stopping at Gosalyn's room and knocking on the door. “Come in,” said Gosalyn’s disinterested voice.

Drake opened the door to see Gosalyn reading one of her comic books on the bed. “Gosalyn, I'm heading out for a few hours now. Launchpad should be over soon, so make sure you’re listening for the doorbell. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone either.”

“Yeah yeah, love ya Dad. Have fun. Just make sure to pick up some milk from the store, we're all out,” Gosalyn said back, her eyes still fixated on the comic.

Drake smiled. “Love ya too Gos.”

Drake made his way back downstairs and grabbed the duffel bag, throwing it over his shoulders. He took a deep breath before opening the door and stepping outside, when his face collided with Launchpad’s chest and caused him to fall over.

“Woah there DW. Better watch where you’re goin’.” Launchpad stuck out his hand and Drake reluctantly grabbed it, mumbling to himself about how he wasn’t the giant barrel-chested lug who had no concept of personal space standing in his doorway.

“What are you doing here so early,” Drake asked. “I thought you were busy with that ‘special project’ you’ve been working on. Speaking of, you ever gonna tell me what it is you’ve been working on? You’re not usually one to keep secrets from me.”

Launchpad avoided Drake’s gaze, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well DW, I’ve uh… It's just something a bit more personal than what I’m used to talking about. Besides, you’ll see it soon, once I give it to ya...” Launchpad’s voice trailed off as if he had suddenly gotten lost in thought.

Drake raised an eyebrow at the last part of what Launchpad said. “What do you mean, give it to me,” he asked.

Launchpad looked surprised. “Did I say give it to ya? That’s just the name of a friend of mine. Real nice gal, not much of talker, but still nice” Launchpad said, trying to hide how flustered he was. Drake crossed his arms and sighed.

Launchpad and Drake stood quietly for what felt like an eternity before Launchpad began again. “So… are you going on patrol tonight? I thought you said you were just going shopping for a few hours.” 

“I am,” Drake said, pushing past Launchpad and making his way towards the car. The longer he stayed here, the less time he had to swing by Darkwing Tower and grab the Ratcatcher. The last thing he needed was to show up to the auction in Drake Mallard's car.

“Then what do you need that for?” Launchpad pointed at the duffel bag Drake was carrying, where a sleeve of the Darkwing Duck costume stuck out. Drake quickly shoved it back into the bag and made sure to zip up so it wouldn’t fall out again. “Well, just in case I run into Megavolt trying to steal some lightbulbs from the grocery store again. Look Launchpad I really should get going so if you would please-”

Drake was cut off by Launchpad, who had suddenly wrapped his arms around him in a tight, but soft hug. The sudden close physical contact startled Drake, but at the same time he never really minded a hug from Launchpad. They were somehow always the right amount of tightness, never as breathtaking as a bear hug but not as awkward as a hug he would give to someone he’d never met before. Launchpad’s warmth made Drake feel like he was wrapped in the biggest, softest blanket that was always the right temperature. Drake swore he never felt safer than when he was in Launchpad’s grasp, a fact that he’d never say out loud for the sake of his pride. At that moment, he wanted to collapse into the hug and stay there, unmoving. But Drake quickly pushed himself out of Launchpad’s grasp. “Sorry Launchpad, I really should be leaving.” 

Drake tossed the duffel bag into the back seat and started up the car, trying his best to not look back at Launchpad, knowing he was probably doing one of his signature sad puppy dog faces. Drake sighed. As soon as the auction and date were over, he’d give Launchpad an apology. Probably.

Drake parked the Ratcatcher in the alley next to the auction house. He'd never bothered paying too much attention to the building when he was on patrol, but now he couldn’t help but marvel at the impressive presence the building gave off with its lights on. It was by far the brightest building on the block. 

He adjusted his hat and mask to make sure they were on tightly. Drake looked at his reflection in one of the building’s many windows. He looked himself up and down one more time, trying to spot any imperfections in his suit. Drake sighed, tipping the brim of his hat forward to hide his face. “Time to get this shit over with.”


	2. In Which The Auction Takes A Turn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't even realize so much time had passed between this and the first chapter. Sorry for such a big gap. With that said, I hope y'all enjoy chapter two.

When Drake stepped into the Auction House, he noticed three things.

The first was the massive amount of people that were seated throughout the building. Tables were packed with people dressed in fancy clothing, some that Drake wouldn't be able to buy even if he worked for twenty plus years. He looked closer to get a better idea of who he’d be dealing with and was surprised at how many different age groups there were to be found. He spotted a group of younger twenty-somethings sitting around one table, deep into whatever new media was on their phones. A few older women were laughing together, probably gossiping about each other's lives. Even with the live jazz band playing, the sound of small talk drowned the music out.

Secondly, the buffet line. The line for it was packed, stretching alongside the auction house walls until it rounded back to where it began. Drake inspected the buffet itself closely. It was filled with tons of exotic and expensive foods, most of which he hadn’t even seen before. He felt himself drool just from looking at everything they had available. Drake made a mental note to grab some of it on his way out, at least then the night wouldn't be a total bust.

The last thing that caught his attention was the bar, which sat on the left side corner of the house. The bartenders were working swiftly, handing out cocktails, beers, and even some more expensive-looking drinks to guests right after they asked for them. Drake noticed Fenton, now in the Gizmoduck suit, sitting at the bar and chatting it up with some young girl. He made his way over to them, inserting himself into the seat between the two and cutting off the conversation. Drake shooed away the young girl and turned his attention to Fenton. “Mind explaining yourself, Gizmo,” he said in a low tone.

Fenton sipped on his glass of whiskey. “I don’t know what you mean, Darkwing. Bartender! A glass of whiskey for my friend.” The bartender nodded and Drake soon found himself holding a small glass of whiskey as well. he thanked the bartender, waiting until he was out of earshot before he continued. “I thought you said this was gonna be a small event! So why-” Drake pointed at the large mass of people inside the house “-is there at least five hundred people here tonight,” he whispered.

“Well, would you have come if I had told you there was gonna be this many people,” Fenton replied calmly.

Drake pondered the thought, then threw back the whiskey in one swig. As much as he hated being lied to, he knew Fenton was right. He remained silent, though a smirk from Fenton he saw from out of the corner of his eye was enough to confirm that he already knew the answer anyways. 

“Well, I’m out," Drake said. "I only agreed to this because you said this was gonna be a small event.”

“You can’t leave,” Fenton said. “You signed a contract, remember?”

Drake thought back to the day after he'd agreed to go to the auction, vaguely remembering the piece of paper Fenton had given him. He hadn’t been fully awake that day because of the bruises he’d gotten on patrol, so he quickly signed the paper and got on with his day. As Drake thought harder about what the paper had looked like, he realized it had looked a little bit like a contract. “So,” Drake said. “What’s some stupid contract gonna make me do?”

Fenton smiled, then opened up a compartment in his suit. He stuck his arm in, rummaged through it for a second, and pulled out a piece of paper. “This contract,” he began, “legally binds the signing party to participate in the auction and commit to one date with the person who they have been auctioned off to, under the ruling of McDuck Industries. This contract cannot be broken by any magic, weapons, or laws, once signed.” Fenton rolled up the paper and shoved it back into the compartment. “Try as you might Dark, but until that date is over, you can’t leave.”

Drake felt the anger inside of him boil. Here he was, getting conned by a man who forgot his lefts from his rights, and being forced into going on a date! Drake wanted to shout at Fenton, tell him off in front of all the richest people in St. Canard. Show him what it truly meant to be made a fool of. He didn’t care how it would make him look.

But as Drake tightened his hand into a fist, he felt the anger simmer down, back to the nothingness from which it came, until all that remained was self-pity. He released the fist, and let out a deep sigh. Drake knew he could only blame himself for getting caught off guard. Fenton had probably been planning on him being too tired to read the contract the next day. He felt stupid for not noticing how blatant the tactic had been, since Fenton only ever visited when he needed something.

Just one date, he thought. One date, and you never have to talk to them again. You can go back to living your life with an amazing daughter and a handsome friend. All you have to do is make it through tonight and tomorrow.

“Calling all St. Canard heroes.” The sound of a female voice rang from the house’s intercoms. “I repeat, calling all St. Canard heroes. The auction will begin in thirty minutes, so please make your way backstage to prepare. I repeat, please make your way backstage. Thank you.” 

Drake pushed the whiskey glass over to a bartender and got out of his seat. All he had to do was get through the night, he could worry about the date after he got some sleep. Besides, he thought to himself, what’s the worst that could happen?

Surprisingly enough, the auction started pretty well. After heading backstage, Drake found that he was set to be the last one to go up. While he hated knowing he would be at the auction all night, he hoped that going last would weed out the few people who wanted to buy him in the first place.

Drake watched from behind the stage as each superhero was brought up, auctioned off, and given to their respective buyer. Neptunia went for a thousand dollars to a spunky younger man, who seemed to be very interested in talking to the fish about the environment. Fenton was lucky enough to get auctioned to a nice looking lady. Drake just hoped he’d be able to control himself.

The numbers continued to dwindle until all that was left was him, alone. “Time to get this over with,” Drake said as he opened the door to the stage. 

“Ladies and Gentleman,” the auctioneer said, “we have a very special guest joining us as our last volunteer in tonight’s auction! He’s the first superhero to grace St. Canard, the scourge of the night sky, the masked mallard himself, Darkwing Duck!” Drake walked on stage, finding himself greeted by mass applause from the audience. A much larger group than he had hoped for though. Drake did his best to look flattered by the attention. "Now then, let's start the bidding! Do I hear one hundred dollars?"

As the auction began, Drake scoped out the audience, trying to see if there were any interesting faces. He saw a man wearing an all-gold suit, a woman covered head to toe in the gaudiest gemstones, Launchpad, a group of younger-looking adults staring off into space-.

Drake did a double-take. Launchpad?!

Sure enough, standing in the back of the auction house was Launchpad McQuack. His brown pilot outfit stuck out like a sore thumb against the many black and white suits of the rich. Drake looked towards the floor to avoid Launchpad's eyes. Why the hell is he here, he thought.

“Do I hear one thousand?” The sound of the bidding continued. Drake could only hope that it’d be over before Launchpad noticed it was him on stage. If he managed to slip past him and get home quickly, he’d probably be able to convince him it was just someone in a costume. Hopefully.

“Do I see three thousand dollars?” Drake looked up to see if Launchpad had moved. Luckily, he was still in the back, unable to move past the tables of people. Unluckily, he’d noticed it was him on stage. Launchpad was now waving his arms up and down, trying to draw Drake’s attention. Drake ignored him. 

“Three thousand to the man in the brown suit! Do I hear three thousand one hundred?” Man in the brown suit? The auctioneer couldn’t have met Launchpad, right? Drake took another look at Launchpad, realizing he was also carrying a sign used for the auction. But those were only given to those participating. Why the hell did he have one?

“Alright five thousand! Do I hear seven thousand five hundred?” Drake saw Launchpad raise his hands again to wave at him. “Seven thousand five hundred to the man in the brown suit! Going once, going twice… sold! To the man in the brown suit!”

No. No no no no. Nononononono. Drake was imagining this. There was no way that he'd heard that right. Seven thousand five hundred dollars? Launchpad had just bought one date with him for seven thousand five hundred dollars? Drake felt light-headed. He stumbled off the stage, crashing into someone's big arms. Launchpad's big arms.

“Are you okay DW,” Launchpad asked. Drake looked up at Launchpad. He was dreaming. He had to be dreaming. There was no way that Launchpad had just spent that much money on him, and for a date nonetheless. Drake felt himself start to lose consciousness. The last thing he remembered was the feeling of Launchpad cradling him in his arms.


	3. In Which Drake Realizes There's No Heterosexual Explanation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The longest chapter so far. This is the one I've had the most fun writing so far, so I hope y'all enjoy.
> 
> Also I just figured out what the Rich Text option does lol.

The smell of a hot coffee with sugar and creme wafted through the living room, giving it a vanilla hazelnut smell. The sun had risen past the houses, shining a bright light on St. Canard. The dewdrops on the grass reflected the sunlight, giving the lawn a glistening sparkle. All of these things should have put Drake in one of his best morning moods. Instead, he found himself lying on the couch, groaning in pain.

Drake was usually able to bounce back from even the weirdest of patrols by the next morning, or at least fake it until Gosalyn wasn’t around. But today he couldn’t. His mind had been racing ever since he’d woken up in his bed without knowing how he’d gotten there or when he’d managed to put himself to sleep.

At first, Drake assumed that it’d all been a dream. There was no way his partner had bought one date with him for seven thousand five hundred dollars. He'd laughed. He must’ve had a nightmare. And then he'd checked his phone. 

Drake had one notification, a missed text from Fenton.

“Hey there Drake! You have fun last night? I know I sure did. Launchpad already told me about your situation and I am laughing my ass off about it. But that’s beside the point. I’m texting you cause I’ve received new info about the date part of the auction! Turns out that thanks to Launchpad’s massive bid, the charity made way more money than they needed to. So much so that they’ve given us enough to have each date come to the fanciest restaurant in St. Canard, The Diamond Duck. Dinner is tomorrow at 7:00 pm, so don’t be late!”

Drake had reread the message three times before finally accepting the reality of his situation.

He had gone to the auction last night. He had been auctioned off to his wonderfully oblivious partner, Launchpad McQuack. And he now had to go on a date with said partner.

Why Drake was still contemplating this hours later was a mystery.

The thought of going on a date with Launchpad made Drake feel….weird. It wasn’t the kind of weird he got when Quackerjack created a creepy new toy, or when he’d fought that singing quartet group. No, this weird sat in the gray area between bad and good. Drake never planned on trying too hard to impress the person he’d been auctioned to, since he didn’t care to be there in the first place. But he realized that he’d also be seated with the rest of St. Canard's heroes. Drake would be watched by everyone else, unable to make any mistakes. He was scared of what they would think of him. At least that was the lie he was deciding to tell himself.

In reality, Drake knew he didn’t actually care about what the others thought of him. He’d only ever cared about a few people’s opinions in his life: Gosalyn’s, Launchpad’s, Morgana’s, Fenton’s to a certain degree, S.H.U.S.H.’s, and of course the public’s. He could handle one date in front of St. Canard’s finest.

Deep down, Drake knew the truth. It wasn’t the thought of the date that scared him, it was the thought of going on a date with Launchpad. Every time he thought of his partner sitting across the table, his face lit by the candlelight, dressed in suit and tie, Drake’s face flared up. The thought of it just felt right to him. Like it was something that was meant to happen. Drake groaned, “Just what does it mean?”

“Just what does  _ what _ mean, Dad?”

Drake jumped from his spot on the couch, surprised by the sudden appearance of Gosalyn standing above him, who was holding a bowl of dried cereal. “Since when have you been up,” he said.

“Well,” Gosalyn began, “I wanted to have some cereal this morning, but we’re all out of milk because  _ somebody _ forgot to pick some.” Gosalyn jabbed a finger into the chub on Drake’s belly. “I thought hey, it’s an honest mistake. No big deal. I’ll ask you to get some when you get up. Except for some reason, you get up and decide to moan and groan on the couch for four whole hours, about an issue that has the easiest solution!”

“Really!” Drake grabbed Gosalyn by her shoulders and began shaking her. “What is it? Is it easy? Do I have to fight someone to get it? Can I buy it with money? Tell me tell me tell me tell me!”

Gosalyn released herself from Drake’s grasp, shaking off the dizziness from being shaken. “Okay, okay, I’ll tell you.”

Drake took a deep breath, preparing himself for Gosalyn’s answer. He was willing to do anything to understand why he was so confused about Launchpad. No answer in the world would terrify him. After all, he was Darkwing-.

“You’re gay.”

“Huh.”

Gosalyn sighed. “You’re gay for Launchpad. It’s about time you accept it.”

Drake didn’t know how to feel. His mind was still processing the two words. You’re gay. Individually they made sense to him. Both were words with definitions. But together, they presented Drake with a thousand-year riddle that could only be solved by the world’s smartest minds. 

“Well. That’s just- I can’t believe- In what universe am I- There’s just no way- Gay?!”

Gosalyn rolled her eyes. “I knew you wouldn’t take it well. Being presented with such an obvious answer must make you feel pretty dumb.”

“That is not obvious, nor is it an answer,” Drake said, finally able to form a complete sentence. “Just what do you mean I’m gay for Launchpad! That’s inconceivable! He’s my friend, nothing more.”

“Do friends give their other friend a cutesy pet name like LP?”

“That’s just his codename for when we’re on patrol,” Drake replied indignantly.

“Alright,” Gosalyn said. “Do friends usually get up early in the morning to make their friend breakfast, just the way he likes it?”

“I happen to make breakfast for Launchpad because I’m making breakfast for you, young lady.”

“Do friends usually sleep in the same house together and raise a little girl with one another?”

“Launchpad just happens to hang out with us a lot! And that’s just to make sure Launchpad stays safe. If I’m not close enough to protect him from danger, who knows what might happen?”

Gosalyn laughed. “Does close enough mean sleeping in the same bed and cuddling with each other?”

Drake blushed. “That doesn’t mean anything. It’s- It’s all circumstantial.”

Gosalyn groaned loudly as if to make the statement, “God, you’re so dense sometimes.” “Dad, why do you think that Morgana broke up with you?"

“Ouch.” Drake felt himself flinch at the directness of Gosalyn’s question. “Well, I guess I’d have to say it was because I didn’t give her enough of my time. I was always off fighting villains, leaving her behind with you. I knew she could protect herself just fine, but I-” Drake winced “-I guess I thought she was a nuisance. And no matter how much she loved me, I could never love her the same way. Morgana was dating Darkwing Duck, not Drake Mallard. The relationship was doomed before it even started.”

Drake looked over at Gosalyn, her mouth was slightly agape. “Was that not the answer you were looking for?”

Gosalyn blinked and shook her head. “No, that answer’s fine, didn’t expect you to get it first try. I just wasn’t expecting you to have so much clarity on why you two stopped dating. Anyways, the point is those all good reasons for why you two stopped dating, but you’re still missing one.”

“Missing one?” Drake was surprised. He thought he'd been pretty on point with his analysis.

“One of Morgana’s biggest pet peeves was that you only ever talked about Launchpad with her,” Gosalyn said. “You’d never shut up about how much he helped you on patrol or how much you missed him or what he did to make you mad that day or-.”

“Gosalyn, Gosalyn, Gosalyn,” Drake said in a matter of fact tone. “None of that means anything. Launchpad goes with me everywhere, so of  _ course _ I talk about him." Drake pushed himself off the couch, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to pick up some milk for an impatient little girl who thinks her daddy’s gay for his partner.” 

Gosalyn groaned. “You are the most stubborn adopted father I’ve ever had.”

“I’m the only adopted father you’ve ever had,” Drake replied.

“I know what I said,” Gosalyn retorted. Drake watched as she leaned back in the couch seat before quickly sitting up, a newfound determination in her eyes. “One more thing. Let me do one more thing to make you realize you have feelings for Launchpad. If it doesn’t work, I promise to leave this whole thing alone.”

“Promise,” Drake asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Promise.”

Drake sighed. If this was what got Gosalyn to leave him alone, so be it. “Fine. Hit me.”

“What do you think of Gryzlikoff?”

“I guess… he’s too much of a play by the rules guy. Hate him.”

“Alright,” Gosalyn said. “What do you think of Fenton?”

Drake pondered the question for a second, trying his best to gather his feelings. “Too overbearing. He talks too much for his own good and is barely a qualified hero.”

“And Launchpad?”

“I love him. He’s the light of my life. I wake up wanting to see his face. He’s kind, handsome, and knows how to cheer me up. He’s always so thoughtful. His hugs are the best in the world. They’re so warm and soft, and I feel so safe in his arms and, and…” Drake stopped himself. He didn’t even think about what he was saying. It was as if the words just spilled out of him, like a water bucket on the verge of overflowing suddenly tipped over.

Gosalyn smiled triumphantly. “So, Mr. I love him. Are you sure you don’t have feelings?”

Drake laughed, though it sounded more like a panicked scream. He couldn’t have feelings for Launchpad. There was absolutely no way. All those times they cuddled together watching old Pelican’s Island episodes were platonic. Strictly platonic. The way he wished he could always make Launchpad smile was just something friends wanted for each other. The way he felt completely safe in Launchpad’s big arms was nothing short of feeling comfortable. “I can’t be gay for Launchpad,” he whispered to himself. “That’s…. That’s-!”

But the more Drake tried to deny it, the more reasons he found that proved Gosalyn's point. The nights he'd spent cuddled up in Launchpad's arms, wishing he could stay there forever. How he always found himself laughing at even the worst of Launchpad's jokes. He realized he didn’t just have feelings for Launchpad. No, it was much worse. He was in love—pure, unconditional love for a man that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Drake grabbed onto the nearby chair and sat down. “Oh. Oh no. This is bad. Very bad.”

Gosalyn looked surprised. “Bad? Dad, don’t you get it? You’re going on a date with Launchpad tomorrow. That’s the perfect time to profess your feelings for him!”

“No!” Drake snapped at Gosalyn, an action he immediately regretted when he saw how much it startled her. “I’m sorry, Gosaroonie but… but I can’t take that chance. Not with LP.”

If Gosalyn was trying to hide her disappointment from Drake, then she did a terrible job. The large frown and folded arms gave it all away. “What, are you still trying to deny you have feelings for him?”

Drake shook his head, “No, but…” Drake hesitated. When he thought about actually dating Launchpad, his mind faltered. He couldn’t fathom the possibility of it going well. The last serious relationship he had was with Morgana, and he’d screwed that up royally with his bad attitude. If he screwed up with Launchpad, he would never forgive himself for ruining the only good friendship he had going for him. “I just can’t Gosalyn. So thanks for trying to help, but I think everything’s going to be alright the way it is.” Drake ruffled the top of Gosalyn’s head and sat up from the chair. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go grab some milk.” 

As Drake started up the car, he kept telling himself it was for the best. That this was the only option to go with. That this was the only way he could keep Launchpad around.

“It’s for the best, Drake,” he muttered to himself.

It had to be.


	4. In Which They Go On A Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeez, its been what? Almost two months? Sorry for the late update, hope this chapter is enjoyable.

  
There was no reason for him to be scared. He had exactly zero reasons to be scared. But now Drake sat on the couch for the third time in the last three days, a nervous wreck. 

Tonight was Sunday, the day that Drake was supposed to be going on a date with Launchpad to   
a restaurant in St. Canard with the rest of the city's finest heroes. But not just any restaurant, that would be too convenient. Tonight they would be dining at The Diamond Duck, the most expensive spot to eat for miles around. Drake had passed by the building multiple times on patrol, often finding himself drawn to its prestigious aura. He'd heard many rumors from the mothers at PTA meetings about it. Apparently, you had to reserve years in advance to even have a chance at getting a table. Another mother told Drake that they also made each of their patrons pass a money check to even get on their website. Drake had brushed off the rumors as false news, but now he felt worried. What if they were right? What if he ended up embarrassing himself in front of the others? What would Launchpad think of him?

Drake sighed. His stress felt like an all too heavy backpack wearing him down. In the last three days, he'd been through several different emotional states, none of which lasted more than an hour. At this point, Drake wondered why he was so worried about the stupid date anyway. He'd spent the latter half of yesterday and all of today making sure he would be fine. And yet all it took was the single thought of Launchpad to throw him off his game.

Drake had spent all too long in bed, convincing himself he didn't have feelings for his handsome and buff partner. Too many hours. And somehow he hadn't made any progress. "It's no use," Drake said. "I have feelings for my partner. My handsome, himbo partner." The room said nothing back. Drake sat unmoving on the couch, waiting for Gosalyn to pop out from behind the Tv and say, "Pranked! You don't actually have feelings for Launchpad, I got Fenton to make a love potion so you'd think you were in love!"

Drake was severely disappointed when she didn't.

He didn't want to ruin it. Drake would never forgive himself if he did. Launchpad was sweet and kind, but he also trusted Drake wholeheartedly. Drake didn't want to break that trust, nor mess with the only good friend he had by mixing feelings into it. But at the same time, Drake desperately wanted to kiss him. Like really badly. As the urge to do so was so overwhelming for Drake that just the thought made him melt.

Drake slapped himself. "Focus, you idiot! You will go on this date. You will enjoy yourself. You will make casual small talk. And when all is said and done, you will bury your feelings for Launchpad so deep inside of you and never talk about this ever again!"

There was a moment of quiet as Drake's feelings of love and stress slowly disappeared. He sighed, though he wasn't able to tell if it was from relief or disappointment.

The doorbell rang, and Drake jumped at the sudden noise. Crap, was it 7:00 pm already? Drake threw himself off the couch and put on the Darkwing Duck suit. "Coming!"

After smoothing out the wrinkles in his jacket, Drake made his way over to the door, this time careful not to run directly into Launchpad's chest. 

Drake did his best to not stare at Launchpad as he walked through the door. He'd worn suits before, but tonight he went all out. Launchpad was wearing a stark white jacket with a black collar, which covered his maroon undershirt. He looked like he'd walked straight out of one of those old spy movies Drake watched, if not for the uncombed hair.  
  
"Wow, Launchpad. I don't think I've ever seen you this dressed up before."

Launchpad smiled. "Well, gee Deedubuya, I thought I'd make sure I looked good for you. Considering this is a "date" an' all." Launchpad pulled at his shirt collar nervously. "Is it too much?"

Drake was glad to know Launchpad couldn't see how red his face was under the mask. "I-It looks fine. Now come on, we have to get going or else we'll be late for dinner." Drake took Launchpad's hand and brought him to the Ratcatcher, the two hopping on and speeding off into the night.

Drake remained silent, running Launchpad's words through his head over and over again. "I thought I'd make sure I looked good for you." How the hell did Launchpad say things like that so easily to him? Little comments that made Drake feel warm and fuzzy on the inside, which got him to lower his guard around him. Drake shook his head, brushing off the feelings. He couldn't let one offhand comment throw him off for the night. Whether or not Launchpad meant what he said was irrelevant. All that mattered was shoving his feelings for his partner so far down that he wouldn't accidentally slip up.

It was going to be one hell of a night.

  
The Ratcatcher pulled silently into the alleyway beside The Diamond Duck. Drake grabbed the tarp he'd shoved into the sidecar early that morning and unfurled it on the bike, smoothing out the wrinkles until it blended into the alley. Hopefully, that would deter any passersby from messing with it.

"Now remember Launchpad," Drake began, "When we enter that restaurant, neither of us know each other."

"Got it Deedubuya- I mean Darkwing Duck," Launchpad replied.

"Good." Drake took a deep breath. The faster they got this night over with, the faster he could forget all about it. But for now, he had a role to play.

The inside of the Diamond Duck was much more grandiose than Drake could have ever imagined. The walls were lined with renaissance paintings, each with its own gold plaque describing who, when, and where it was made, along with its worth. High above them hung crystal chandeliers that shined brightly in the light of various expensive-looking lights. Even the floor was lined with metallic threads, which Drake assumed were also made of gold. 

Drake looked around at the people who had already arrived. He was surprised to see the whole dining room was empty, except for a few tables, the remaining hero and date couples, and some waiters taking orders. Everyone in the room was dressed in some white or black suit, and Drake suddenly became self-conscious of how much he stuck out in his bright purple costume. So much for subtle.

Sitting down at a nearby table, Drake did his best to hold in a gasp. Everything on the menu was unpriced. Scrolling through the menu, Drake found on the affordable sounding item was the water. "Thank god this isn't coming out of my wallet," he said.

Launchpad didn't seem to hear him. "You think they have chicken tenders?"

"Launchpad, this is the most esteemed restaurant in all of St. Canard. I doubt they serve chicken tenders, much less any other childish meal, and- and you're fucking with me, aren't you?"

Launchpad didn't even try to hide how smug he was. "Maybe." He waved a waiter over. "I'll take New York Steak with a side salad and glass of whatever red wine you think will pair best with it. And my date will have?"

It took a second for Drake to realize Launchpad was referring to him. "Right! I'll have the All American Steak Burger, hold the onions, along with sweet potato fries. Oh, and water is fine, thank you." The waiter nodded and made his way back to the kitchen.

"Y'know, you don't have to keep calling this a date," Drake whispered. "I only needed you to pretend you don't know me."

Launchpad raised an eyebrow. "Well, if we're not on a date, then what would you call this?"

"Think of it…" Drake racked his brain for a good excuse. "Think of it as a mission stakeout. Like the one we did back when we were sure Bushroot was raiding all those flower stores."

"I remember that one. We spent all night lying on that roof, waiting for him to come. You wouldn't even let yourself leave the post to use the bathroom."

"Yeah, that wasn't my proudest moment in retrospect. At least we caught him."

"But not before we had an hour-long argument on whether or not Pelican's Island was just a figment of his imagination," Launchpad laughed.

"I still stand by my theory. There's no way the five of them survived for that long on an island. How the hell did they not die of starvation?"

"You get heated over the smallest things, y' know that?"

"I get heated when I'm right and no one wants to admit it!"

"Oh, brother…"

  


It took Drake a while to realize how long he and Launchpad had been talking. And to realize how much he enjoyed it. He forgot what it was like to just dive into a conversation that wasn't some form of snarky banter with a villain or the Muddlefoots. Launchpad was a great listener, bouncing his ideas back at him without missing a beat. Soon the world outside the two of them seemed to fade into obscurity, Drake putting all his attention into the man that sat only a few feet away from him. Noticing the way his face softened every time he spoke. The way he smiled the biggest when Drake complimented him. The way he held Drake's hand softly and Drake hadn't pulled away because his touch was soft and comforting, just like he was. And the way Drake realized that this was exactly what he wanted, to be alone with the man across the table. To wake up to the smile that always brightened his day. To…

To be in love.

There was no need to tell Launchpad about his feelings for him, right? He could be happy like this. Letting himself pretend they didn't exist. It wasn't worth ruining this feeling. Yeah, he was content with this… right?

"It's getting pretty late now, isn't it Darkwing?"

Drake looked around The Diamond Duck. The streets of St. Canard were dark, lit only by the streetlights and interior lights of surrounding buildings. A clock from inside The Diamond Duck read 11:00 pm, though Drake wouldn't have guessed from how many dates were still excitedly talking at their tables. Drake couldn't think of why the rest of them were still there but remembered that something on the contract had stated that all dates were required to stay with their buyers until midnight. Guess it made sense to drag out the dinner until then.

"I guess you could say that," Drake said in between stretches. "Ready to head out then? Crime isn't going to stop itself."

"Actually, remember my friend Ya," Launchpad asked.

"You mean the woman you made up on the spot because you didn't want to admit you were getting a gift for me," Drake said.

Launchpad winced, "Was it that obvious?"

"You're a terrible liar Launchpad, we both know this. But I digress. You know you're not obligated to give me a gift on this 'date' right?" Drake made a big show of air quoting the word date.

"Well, I've actually been working on this for a while now. Took me a few months of jewelry making classes before I got good enough. And since we're on a date an' stuff-" Launchpad rummaged through his jacket pocket before pulling something out "-it's the perfect time to give it to ya!"

Launchpad dropped the object into the palm of Drake's hand. Drake was surprised to find that it was cold and metallic. Upon further inspection, Drake realized that he'd been gifted a locket in the shape of a heart, which was also painted purple. 

"Oh Launchpad, you shouldn't have," Drake said, trying to hide the bewilderment in his voice. "It's very… very you."

"Thanks! But uh, aren't you gonna open it?"

Drake looked at the locket again, noticing the latch that was on the right side. He pushed up on it and, after the sound of a satisfying click, opened the locket.

The inside didn't hold much, just a picture. But Drake realized it wasn't just any photo. It was a photo from the day he'd adopted Gosalyn. Drake had almost forgotten they'd taken it. Then again, everything that hadn't been the actual act of adopting Gosalyn had become a blur from all the painkillers he'd taken. Slowly, the memory of the picture came back to him.

Drake remembered saying something about commemorating Gosalyn's adoption, which he guessed Launchpad must've taken as "get a picture taken." He'd forced a random passerby to get a photo of all of them in front of the orphanage, Drake vaguely remembering Launchpad pulling out his sad puppy dog face before getting them to agree. Launchpad had wrapped his arm around Drake's waist to keep him falling over as he held Gosalyn in his arms. It was the happiest Drake had been in a while because it was the first time he'd felt he was making a difference. He'd adopted the greatest little girl and made a new friend, along with saving the day. Of course, he'd lost the picture a few days after while in the process of moving, and thus the memory of the photo faded into obscurity, but Launchpad must've saved a copy of it somewhere.

Looking at the photo and the flood of emotions that it gave him, Drake realized just how much Launchpad cared. Enough to stick around through long nights of patrol, through the nights he spent worrying about if Gosalyn would actually enjoy having him as a father, through the nights he spent fawning over Morgana and the nights after they'd broken up when he couldn't stop crying. And now, to spend months in a jewelry-making class just to learn how to make a locket. Just to make him smile.

"So? What do you think?"

Drake swallowed back the urge to cry. "It's... It's…" The words wouldn't come out.

It wasn't right to lead Launchpad on like this, to let him put everything into a relationship when Drake knew he wouldn't do the same. To pretend that none of Drake felt was real. He wouldn't be content with this. 

And at that moment, Drake's brain decided that there was only one answer he could give the man across the table.

And that answer was to run directly into the men's bathroom and not look back. 


	5. In Which Drake Finds That Fenton Is A Better Friend Than He Thought

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I really not update for 20 days? Yes. Am I sorry? Very much so.  
> Jokes aside, this is the last chapter of calm before I finally get into the climax. Please enjoy!

If Drake was told to list the top five things that would happen on a fake date with Launchpad, none of them would have been locking the bathroom doors, curling up into the fetal position, and crying enough tears to rival Niagara Falls.

Drake pushed himself off the floor and looked into the large, posh-looking mirror in the bathroom. His eyes were red, and his cheeks still hadn't dried from all the tears he shed. "Good job Drake," he muttered. "You really screwed the pooch on this."

He wiped his cheeks. How the hell was he supposed to recover from this? It wasn't like he could walk back out there and pretend nothing had happened. His ego had taken such a beating that he was too scared to face the rest of the dates. Or worse, what Launchpad would say…

Drake unclasped the necklace from his neck, looking at the photo of them all together. He couldn't deny how happy he looked in that photo, Launchpad's arm around his waist and Gosalyn in his arms. It was like looking into a mirror of all the things he wanted, only the mirror was looking right back at him and calling him an idiot for leaving when the going got tough.

Why was he still running from the inevitable? Sooner or later, the truth would come out. Launchpad wouldn't reciprocate the feelings Drake had for him, and it'd get so awkward between the two of them they'd eventually break up. Yet Drake couldn't help but cling to the idea that the date could still be salvaged, and he could keep lying for another year or two, even though running out on someone when they give you a gift wasn't his best look. Especially when said person had been working months on said gift for months.

Drake forced himself to move towards the bathroom door, his arms shaking. He raised his hand to unlock the door, his arm barely having enough strength to do that. There was a pause as Drake wrapped his hand around the metal handle of the door. An all too long hesitation. Then Drake let go, allowing his body to flop back onto the floor. He let out a long sigh, "I'm gonna be stuck here forever, aren't I?"

"With that attitude? Most definitely."

Drake jumped to his feet to face the familiar voice, his sighs of exasperation turning into groans of disappointment. "Oh, it's just you, Fenton."

Drake was surprised to see his rival in crime-fighting had stepped out of the Gizmosuit, which Drake suspected was shoved inside the bulging brown suitcase Fento was holding. Drake noted that Fenton had left looking nice up to the Gizmosuit, as he was still wearing the ugly four-color suit that Drake hated. "Y'know, for a world-famous superhero who's also a scientist, it's amazing that you still can't put on a suit that has some semblance of color coordination."

Fenton chuckled. "You're in a position like this, and you still find time to be sarcastic. Must be nice."

Drake shot Fenton a glare as the man sat next to him on the bathroom floor. "What do you want, Fenton? Sorta in the middle of an emotional crisis," Drake said.

"Well, I'm here to help you with that emotional crisis," Fenton said. "And I'm missing out on a date with the hottest woman I've seen in a awhile, so you better fess up."

Drake sighed. Was this really all the emotional support he was getting? The one-man whom Drake could barely tolerate talking with, whether it was as a superhero or a civilian? The same dude who he saw go through three whole gallons of ice cream after a bad breakup? That was the man who he was getting advice from?

Drake looked at Fenton, his face still stuck in a Gizmoduck permanent grin. But Drake sensed no pity from his eyes, only sympathy and a need to help. 

Drake caved, "Fine, I'll talk. But I better not hear you judging me afterward."

"Scouts honor," Fenton said as he saluted Drake.

"So Gosalyn made me realize that I was in love with Launchpad and I was originally going to shove those feelings away and never talk about them except I was forced to go on a date with Launchpad and he gave the most beautiful necklace I've ever seen with this photo from the day I adopted Gosalyn and I look so happy and I just can't hide the way I feel about him but I don't want to ruin our friendship and god I just don't know what to do anymore!"

Drake exhaled, his chest feeling much lighter. He hadn't realized how much he was holding in about the situation, much less how heavy it weighed on him. While it hadn't solved anything, it still felt good to spill his feelings to someone. Drake waited for Fenton to respond with words of sympathy, though he was only met with a frown larger than the day they'd met initially.

"Gosalyn told me you were an idiot, but I never expected you to be so delusional as well."

"Well geez Fenton, fuck you-wait, what do you mean Gosalyn told you I was an idiot?"

"Listen, Drakearoonie," Fenton said, ignoring Drake's question. "Since you've decided to tell me a story of yours, let me respond with a story of mine. Don't-" Fenton placed a finger on Drake's beak "-interject, this one has a point to it."

Drake slumped deeper against the bathroom wall. "Fine."

"Back when Launchpad was still working for Scrooge, he and I started going out every Sunday to hang out. Didn't matter what we did; we did just about anything to give ourselves a break from Scrooge and the family."

"Yeah, yeah. Launchpad tells me all about what you guys do on your Sundays."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah," Drake said, sitting back up to look Fenton in the eyes. "Says you guys talk about how Scrooge and the kids are doing, how Duckburg is, whether or not someone's beaten his crashing records. The usual."

"Does he tell you about how much he talks about you?"

Now that piqued Drake's interest. "He does what?"

"Oh y' know, the usual," Fenton replied with a smug grin. "How glad he is to have you as a partner, how happy he is to be spending time with you, and Gosalyn, how happy it makes him feel to know you care about him."

"He...he says all that?"

Fenton laughed. "Says all that? It's his own motivational poster. You and Gosalyn are what drives him to be a better person. You're his role model, and I don't think he's the only one who feels that way."

"What are you trying to say, Fenton," Drake said, once again glad that his mask hid the blush on his face.

"What I'm trying is, Launchpad cares more about you and Gosalyn than anything in the whole world. If you two were falling off a cliff, he wouldn't hesitate to throw himself off to catch you both. He's got your back through thick and thin, through the happy and sad. Hell, even through a fake dinner date! If you think that he's going to reject your feelings for him, then the only person you have to blame for thinking that is yourself."

Drake sat with his mouth agape, dumbfounded by the information he was being given. Had Launchpad really said all those things about him? Drake knew he cared about Gosalyn and him a lot, but he'd never known it'd been to that extent. If all that was true, then why was he running? What was the point if Launchpad felt the same way Drake felt about him?

"You're scared."

"I'm what?" Drake said.

"You're scared," Fenton repeated. "And that's okay. I would be too. Even with all of this information, you're still scared of what'll happen when you finally say it to him."

Drake rubbed his arm, his eyes averting Fenton's gaze. "And what if I am scared? What if I'm scared that I'll tell him and he won't reciprocate? What if I'm scared I'll fumble the words, or I won't know what to say? What if I'm scared telling him means losing everything?"

Fenton placed a hand on Drake's shoulder. "You won't know until you try."

Drake smiled. He wouldn't know, would he? He'd be stuck wondering what all the possibilities would be instead of taking the leap of faith to say those three words.

"Well, alright, then." Drake pushed himself off the ground and grabbed Fenton's hand to pull him up. "I'll tell him."

"Great! Now c'mon, it's almost been an hour. Hopefully, my date hasn't left yet," Fenton said as he crossed his fingers.

"Doesn't she have a name?"

"That would fall under the list of things I still need to know about her."

Drake laughed and pushed open the bathroom door, just in time to watch the glass ceiling shatter as the giant mechanical fist crashed through the roof.


	6. In Which Drake Fights The Giant Robot

“Blathering Blatherskite!” Fenton pushed Drake onto the ground and shielded him from the larger chunks of glass. “What the hell is this?”

Drake scanned his surroundings from under the Gizmosuit. The floor was covered in shards of glass ranging from insignificant to something that would put Drake in the hospital for a week. The rest of the dates seemed to have the same idea as Fenton, all of them huddled closely under their tables. Drake looked over to Launchpad’s table and saw he’d done the same. Drake allowed himself to breathe. “Thank god he’s safe,” he muttered.

Rolling out from beneath Fenton, Drake took note of his surroundings. The fist that punctured the roof was sitting in the middle of the room. All of the heroes had moved out from underneath their tables, looking just as confused as him and Fenton. Drake started to assume this was just a very odd experiment gone wrong until the sound of two separate but equally maniacal laughs began to fill the dining room.

“Well if it isn’t the  _ Dorkwing _ Defender! And his posse of wannabe heroes too!” Quackerjack’s voice rang from the fist in the room. 

“We are not his posse,” the other heroes shouted back.

“Sorry to  _ drop  _ in unannounced, but we’re just so excited to show you our  _ shocking  _ new invention,” Megavolt continued, unconcerned with the backlash from the last comment.

Couldn’t have just robbed a toy store or grocery store, could they?

Slowly, the fist rose from the ground and out of the roof. As he looked through the gaping hole in the ceiling, Drake realized that the fist was attached to a much larger robot. The robot was painted brown, its stomach a light yellow. Its face had two big black eyes and a mouth painted in a smile with sharp teeth. It almost seemed reminiscent of a…

“Is that a giant Teddy Bear,” Drake shouted.

“Oh?” Quackerjack sounded interested. “Does someone finally recognize my artistic talents?”

Talent was a stretch. Half the paint in the robot’s eyes was dripping down the side of its face in a way that made it look like its mascara was running. The smile was crooked, and combined with the jagged teeth it gave off serial killer vibes. And the brown paint, which Drake assumed they were using for fur, was so scarce that it looked more like the robot had developed a thick coat of rust. 

But nonetheless, Drake needed to keep Quckerjack busy. “It looks amazing! Tell me, did you do this all by yourselves?”

“But of course,” Quackerjack began. “This is my greatest invention to date! A combination of every child’s favorite toy and the world’s deadliest machine, this Teddy Bear will do far more than…” Quackerjack began to ramble about the schematics of the robot and his plan for citywide domination.

“Good,” Drake said. “That should keep him busy for a while.” He turned towards the rest of the heroes. “Neptunia, evacuate everyone in the nearby premises. Gizmoduck, get outside and get me a good look at that robot. And Comet Guy… you do whatever it is you do.”

As the others began carrying out his plan, Drake began making his way outside, trying to think of a plan for himself. Individually, Quackerjack and Megavolt weren’t much of a threat. Neither was what Drake would call “stable”, and their plans never made enough sense in the first place to get very far. But beneath both of their exteriors were some of St. Canard’s most genius minds. Quackerjack was an expert in toy building, with a knowledge of robotics that was much bigger than Drake gave him credit for. Combine that with Megavolt, who was basically a nuclear-battery, and you got a giant robot powered by the world’s strongest battery. If that battery was a mentally unstable man with issues. If Drake was gonna take them down, it was gonna take more than just dumb luck.

Of course, that also meant he’d have to get their attention first.

“Hey Sparky! How does it feel being not only the world’s biggest battery but the world’s biggest loser too?”

The Teddy Bear turned to face Drake, this time Megavolt’s voice coming from the robot’s speakers. “Don’t call me Sparky!”

The hands on the Teddy Bear began to charge with electricity. Pointing a hand at Drake, the Teddy Bear fired a bolt of electricity at him. Drake jumped, barely dodging the electricity blast as it destroyed the rooftop he’d been on, and landed on another rooftop.

Of course the giant mechanical Teddy Bear shot electricity from its arms. Why wouldn’t he have assumed that?

Before he had time to think, Drake saw the Teddy Bear begin charging another blast. Taking off across the building, Drake leaped out into the open air and landed directly into Fenton’s arms as the blast once again destroyed the rooftop behind him.

“You know, most friends give a notice before they drop out of thin air and into their arms,” Fenton remarked.

“Oh shut it you big can opener. You find anything useful about the robot?”

Fenton shook his head. “For as crappy as that thing looks, it’s pretty well built. And large to boot. Megavolt must have pretty good stamina if he’s keeping it running this long.”

“Yeah…” Too long, actually. Drake knew Megavolt was strong, but he wasn’t without his weaknesses. Needing to charge every once in a while so that he wouldn’t run out of power meant Megavolt wasn’t a constant power source without a constant power source nearby. In fact, running a robot of that size would be nearly impossible if he wasn’t plugged into something. Unless Megavolt wasn’t the one running the robot after all.

“A battery,” Drake said.

“What?”

“I thought Megavolt was the battery,” Drake continued. “But there’s no way he’s been keeping that thing running this whole time. So there must be another power source keeping this thing running.”

Fenton scratched his head in confusion. “I see where you’re going with this Drake, but where would you fit a giant battery on that thing?”

“Where else would you put the batteries on a toy,” Drake said as he pointed at the back of the Teddy Bear.

“How are you gonna get it out,” Fenton asked. “I doubt the two of them will be kind enough to let you take out their battery.”

“I need you to buy me some time. Think you can annoy them as much as you annoy me?”

Fenton laughed. “If they’re as easily annoyed by me as you are, it’ll be a walk in the park.” 

Swooping beneath a bolt of electricity, Fenton dropped Drake off on the street and took off in the direction of the Teddy Bear, leaving Drake to find a way to actually beat the robot. Which wouldn’t be too hard, all things considered. All Drake had to do was get behind the Teddy Bear, pull out the battery, save the day, and then….

And then what? The obvious answer was that he’d talk to Launchpad and clear things up about why he ran away. But at the same time, Drake still feared that he’d made an irreversible mistake, and he doubted that coming out about his feelings to Launchpad would make any of it better. Knowing Launchpad, if Drake came on too forcefully then he’d accept with no questions asked, whether he wanted to or not. But if Drake approached Launchpad without confidence, he’d probably end up burying his feelings again and he’d be back at step one.

Drake pulled the locket Launchpad had made out of his pocket and opened it, admiring how peaceful the three of them looked in the photo. And how right it felt too. “You won’t know until you try,” Fenton had said. Launchpad could easily say no to Drake’s feelings, and that could spiral into a multitude of different scenarios that Drake didn’t want to imagine. But if Launchpad said yes, that meant he’d have the rest of his life to make memories with the people he loved most. And that possibility made it all the more worth it.

Drake unclasped the necklace and put it around his neck, the metal cold against his skin. Making sure it wouldn’t come undone, Drake put the locket beneath his suit. He drew his grappling hook, took a deep breath, and ran straight towards Fenton and the Teddy Bear.

Megavolt and Quackerjack seemed distracted by Fenton obnoxiously flying around and insulting them, who was doing a pretty good job at hitting some sore spots. Running beneath the Teddy Bear’s legs, Drake whipped his head around for the one thing he was hoping to find. It took a second of scanning, but eventually he found it lying right beneath the neck of the Teddy Bear. A panel that was jutting out slightly more than the others, a surefire sign that it was probably placed on top of something. 

Drake aimed the grappling hook at the top of the panel and fired, the grappling hook sticking itself into the inside of the panel. Drake planted his feet and pulled as hard as he could until the panel came loose and fell off the back of the robot, revealing an almost comically large battery. 

Drake fired the grappling hook once more, this time wrapping it around the battery. Planting his feet into the ground once again, Drake pulled on the battery.

It didn’t budge.

Drake pulled again. It still wouldn’t move.

Drake began to worry. He didn’t have much time before Megavolt or Quackerjack noticed that something was happening, or Fenton ran out of insults. Digging his feet into the ground for the last time, Drake tightened his grip on the grappling hook. Drake drew in his breath.

“I am the terror that flaps in the night. I am the hero who saves St. Canard. I am Darkwing Duck!” Drake put everything his body had into the pull, feeling every muscle in his arms and legs become strained. Adrenaline pumping through his body, Drake tugged with all he had left until the battery popped right out of the back of the robot and onto the street below.

Drake dropped to his knees as he watched the robot fall over as well, the sounds of an all too angry Megavolt and Quackerjack coming from inside. Drake chuckled to himself. At least the hard part was over. Drake’s eyelids felt heavy, and the natural urge to close them fell over him. He felt the last of his body go numb as his brain fell into slumber. 

But for now, he’d sleep. A lot.


	7. In Which Drake Confesses

Drake woke up like he usually did after a hard night on patrol. Sore, groggy, and with an unnatural urge to shove as much coffee down his throat so he’d wake up faster. He groaned, rolling over to the other side of the bed. Drake expected to find Launchpad’s body lying there, but found that apparently, his bed was empty. In fact, Launchpad’s side of the bed was cold, as if he hadn’t slept there at all. Drake didn’t think anything of it. It wasn’t unusual for Launchpad to sleep on the couch sometimes. Which meant that Drake wouldn’t have any reason to not confess to him.

He still felt a little nervous, even though most of his fears had disappeared after last night’s fight. Drake still wasn’t sure if Launchpad would want to talk to him after he ran out on him in the middle of the date, but he didn't have time to consider that. Drake pushed himself out of bed and stumbled over to his door, doing his best to open it with his sore arms. Drake took a deep breath, allowing his brain to formulate a sentence, then pushed himself into the living room. “Launchpad can we-”

Drake stopped himself. Where Drake expected a sleeping Launchpad sat Gosalyn, engrossed in her Saturday morning cartoons and eating a bowl of cereal, which Drake could only assume was her second or third bowl.   
  


“G’morning Gosalyn,” Drake said.

Gosalyn's eyes didn’t move from the tv screen. “Mornin’ dad. Feeling any better from last night?”

Drake yawned, “For the most part, yes. I still feel like a zombie though.” Making his way to the kitchen, Drake pulled out a bowl and poured himself some cereal. “Did Launchpad say he had somewhere to go? He’s not usually up this early.”

“Wouldn’t know,” Gosalyn replied. “He never came home last night.”

Now that was a shock to Drake. Launchpad always told Drake when he was going to be out of town. “Then who dropped me off back here?”

Gosalyn groaned, pausing her tv show in what looked to be a climactic fight scene. “Fenton did. Said that you were all tuckered out and whatnot. He didn’t mention anything about Launchpad.”

“Are you sure? Not even a message from him?”

“Not that I know of. Could always check Darkwing Tower’s call records,” Gosalyn said. “Maybe he left you something before he went out of town. Now, will you please let me finish my show?”

Drake sighed, trying his best to not read too deep into the situation. He was sure it was just Launchpad being Launchpad, and not something catastrophic like him leaving. Forever.

Scarfing down his cereal, Drake quickly got dressed and said his goodbyes to Gosalyn before making his way to the tower. Part of him hoped that Launchpad would be there working on the Thunderquack, which made his lack of appearance even more disappointing when Drake arrived.

Drake opened up the computer and quickly sifted through the previous call records he’d gotten days prior. The only notable ones were a call from Fenton about not being late to the auction, a butt dial from Launchpad, a S.H.U.S.H. report from Grylikoff he’d probably go over later, and finally a new message from last night that came from Launchpad. Drake braced himself for the call and pressed play.

“ _ Hey, Drake. I uh, know you’re probably busy sleeping right now, after fighting Megavolt and Quackerjack.”  _ Launchpad’s nervous voice made Drake’s heart ache. _ “And well, I don’t really know where we stand since the last thing I did was make you cry. I was meaning to tell you this during dinner but I’ll be out of town for a little bit. Not too long, just need to attend to some business for a little with Mr. McDuck. I’ll be back soon. Try to hold down the fort for me, Deedubuya. _ ” The soft click of the call ending played, and it took Drake a moment to realize that it was over.

So he was going out of town for a few days. That’s a good thing, Drake thought. Means that he won’t have to wait very long. “A few days without Launchpad,” Drake said. “How hard can it be?”

  
  
  


If “a little bit” was Launchpad code for “See you next never”, Drake felt like a fool for not knowing about it earlier. It’d been a week since he’d last heard from him, the longest Drake had gone without contact to Launchpad in a while. Drake hadn’t realized how nerve-wracking it was to not hear from him for so long, though he blamed his newfound feelings of love on that. The house had been quiet without him, patrols even quieter, to the point where the days began to meld into the same monotonous schedule. Wake up, take Gosalyn to school, work around the house, pick Gosalyn up and take her to hockey practice, take her home, go on patrol, sleep, repeat. Drake thought he’d end up dying of boredom before Launchpad came back.

And then Sunday happened.

Drake woke up groggy again, having stayed up fighting Negaduck again. His nemesis had hurled insult after insult at him, but Drake hadn’t the energy to fire back with anything. The fight ended up lasting for six hours, with Negaduck finally conceding and retreating to wherever he went after fights.

Drake unwillingly forced himself out of bed to take Gosalyn to school, then plopped himself down on the couch and turned on Pelican’s Island. It was a rerun of the third season’s tenth episode, where the gang was trying to cure Pelican’s vision using some berries they found around the island.

“Topsy Turvy? I’ve never been a fan of that episode very much.”

Drake jumped in his seat from hearing Launchpad’s voice so suddenly. He turned around, finding his friend standing behind him with a grin on his face. “Hey there, Deedubuya. Didja miss me?”

In the seconds following, Drake’s mind went through a series of emotions. First came scared, from how much Launchpad’s sudden appearance freaked him out. Second came confusion, wondering how Launchpad managed to even get in the house without his knowledge. Third came anger, an emotion he’d been slowly building up over the course of the week Launchpad was gone. And lastly was happiness, because Drake didn’t care at all where he’d been, just glad that he was back. Which of course translated into a quiet “meh” and an awkward silence as stock laughter played in the background.

“Guess I’ll take that as a no,” Launchpad said despondently. “Mind I sit down with you?”

“Nope,” Drake tried to reply calmly, instead coming off as uninterested. He felt bad watching Launchpad slowly sit down next to him on the other side of the couch, looking like a hurt puppy dog.

Drake knew that he needed to break the silence somehow. He couldn’t have things be this awkward if he wanted to confess anytime soon.

“I’m sorry,” Drake said.

Now it was Launchpad’s turn to be shocked. “What are you apologizing for, Deedubuya?”

“For-” Drake gripped the couch side “-running out on you the other night. On our date. I didn’t mean anything by it, I just couldn’t process all of my emotions at the time.”

Launchpad laughed. “Gee Deedubuya, that’s all you’re apologizing for? Thanks, but I’m good now. No hurt feelings, see?” Launchpad pounded his chest with his hand. “Strong and sturdy as ever.”

Drake smiled. Maybe there was a chance this would work out after all. “And I wanted to apologize for not being honest with you earlier.”

“About running out on the date? It’s really no biggie-”

“About how I feel. About you, Launchpad.”

“Deedubaya?” Launchpad’s voice was nervous.

“I think,” Drake began, “that I didn’t give enough thought to how I felt about you. That you were just Launchpad, my partner, my friend, my confidant. Nothing else. And when I did, and I realized how you made me feel, I got scared. Like it wasn’t right to want to feel that way about you.” Drake began to sweat as his nerves started to get to him. “But ever since we met that night we beat Taurus Bulba, I’ve wanted you by my side and no one else. You were there for Gosalyn’s adoption, you were there to pick me back up after Morgana broke up with me, you’ve even been to all of Gosalyn’s hockey games. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And it’d be wrong if I didn’t tell you how I feel.”

“Make you feel how, Drake,” Launchpad said.

Drake turned to look Launchpad in the eyes. His body felt like it was on fire, every single brain cell screaming at him to turn back before he did something irreversibly stupid. His hands trembled under the pressure, his mouth beginning to stutter under the weight of his feelings.

Launchpad reached over and held Drake’s hand in his own, and Drake realized how big he was. Not just in size, but in heart too. Drake hadn’t been the best friend or partner, and yet here Launchpad sat holding his hand, calming him down for what Drake could only assume was the 1000th time. And somehow Drake knew it wouldn’t be the last.

Swallowing back his fear, Drake finally spoke. “I love you, Launchpad.”

Drake expected Launchpad to be shocked, perhaps even disgusted by the sudden confession. It wasn’t like Drake to admit something so personal. Instead he remained silent, and Drake worried that he’d broken the man. Then Launchpad slowly let go of Drake’s hand and began to laugh.

“What,” Drake said angrily. “What’s so funny!”

“Oh it’s not your fault. Just that I wasn’t expecting you to feel the same, is all.”

Drake paused. “Feel the same?”

“Why did you think I bought you as a date from the auction anyways? And that necklace wasn’t just for show,” Launchpad said. “I was gonna ask you to go on a date with me Drake. A real one, not a fake one.”

Drake’s mind began to put the pieces together. Why Launchpad hadn’t been surprised by the auction, why he’d dressed up so nicely, why he’d brought a gift for him, and why he was almost glad that Drake had said he loved him. They slowly clicked together, until finally Drake realized what he was saying. “You love me too?”

“Always,” Launchpad replied. “It’s been hard keeping it a secret from you for so long, but I finally got the courage to do it awhile ago when Fenton told me you were going to be a part of that auction. Mr. McDuck wasn’t too keen on loaning me the money afterward, but I managed to convince him. It’s why I went outta town, had to work with him to repay all the money I spent.”

“So you’re not mad at me,” Drake said.

“Nope,” Launchpad replied.

“And you’re not gonna leave Gosayln and I?”

“Why would I ever?”

“And you’re okay with this?”

“Being your boyfriend? Of course. Are you?”

Drake smiled. “Yeah. I am.” Drake rested his head on Launchpad’s laugh, taking in his now boyfriend’s beautiful face. “I could kiss you right now.”

Launchpad scratched his cheek, “I mean, you could. I am your boyfriend now.”

Drake laughed, placing his hand on Launchpad’s cheek and leaning up to kiss him on his beak. It was a soft kiss, Launchpad’s hand propping Drake up to keep them kissing longer. For the first time in a few weeks, Drake truly felt at peace.

Yeah. He could live with this.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading Awkard. It's been fun writing this and I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh yeah, any thoughts you have are always welcome too.


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